


Greater Good?

by katbybee



Category: NCIS
Genre: Consequences, Gen, Hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:35:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28267725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katbybee/pseuds/katbybee
Summary: Just my musings over what might have been going on in the opening scene of Season 18 Episode 1. I realize I could be all wrong, of course, but I am not one that can ever leave well enough alone. I need answers! Please let me know what you think. Cross-posted on FFN. I own nothing and the characters belong to DBP and company. No copyright infringement intended.
Relationships: n/a
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Greater Good?

**March 2020**

McGee's eyes flew open as a spasm of pain rammed him in the leg. One wrist was handcuffed to a cot and he was staring up at a concrete block ceiling. He tried to calm down and order his scattered thoughts. His other arm had a dressing and duct tape plastered around his upper arm. He frowned at the implications of that tidbit.

He scowled, knowing he had been captured somehow, but he had no memory of his immediate past. The last thing he remembered was racing to the private airfield and chasing the Leer jet. He remembered bailing out of the rental car and aiming at the cockpit… and then… he remembered hearing gunfire. He sat straight up in sudden realization. He had come under fire. He looked down at his arm and leg. Someone had fired on him and wounded him. And someone had treated those wounds, and apparently captured him, because he sure as hell wasn't in a hospital. For one thing, a hospital wouldn't have used duct tape as part of the bandage on his arm.

Rather than shouting and drawing attention to himself, he decided to bide his time and wait to see what was happening… and try to work on an escape plan. He realized why he was only handcuffed by one wrist. He raised each leg one at a time and realized he had a heavy, slightly dingy bandage wrapped around his right thigh.

He heard a key scrape in a lock, and the door swung open and then shut. The last person he ever expected stepped inside, fixing him with that distant stare of his. Tim was confused, but only for a moment. The penny dropped and everything fell into place. "It was you." It wasn't a question and they both knew it.

"Yeah. I'm sorry kid. I couldn't let you stop that plane. You got no idea what you were getting into."

Tim sighed, but Gibb's words rankled. He was not about to let them go unchallenged. He sat up as best he could, pulling his good leg under him. He glared at the man he had considered his mentor and at one time, even a friend.

"Number One: I am NOT a kid anymore. I haven't been a kid for a very long time, Gibbs. I certainly am not YOUR kid! I've never even been a part of your inner circle! I realize you and Fornell are totally off the map here, but at least do me the courtesy of acting like a professional. I am still an agent. You, I'm not so sure about. Number Two: I was acting undercover in cooperation with the DEA. Sanctioned by Director Vance to try stop you from destroying yourself. I did it because I cared about you. You were my boss. But now? You stepped over the line, Leroy! You SHOT ME!"

Gibbs stared at the younger man, a shockwave shivering through him. McGee had never called him by his first name before, and the fact that he had done it now said just how far from grace he had fallen in the other man's eyes. Yeah, he and Fornell were doing the right thing. They had been, every step of the way. He had gotten wind of the trap the DEA had set for them, but until that moment on the airstrip he hadn't known who the DEA had been using to feed them information. He had reverted to his old persona. The cold deadly sniper with no feelings about his mission. Almost. But deep inside, he had known that his target was also the man he had long thought of as the son he had never had. And he could not and would not kill him. He had prayed the warning shot would cause Tim to back off, but he knew it wouldn't. Tim wasn't wired that way.

Though anyone looking at Gibb's impassive face would never know it, his heart was breaking when he fired the second shot into Tim's arm. Gibbs silently pleaded with the kid to stop. But as he had known, Tim was as stubborn as hell and he had to place the third one into his thigh. Both shots were in places that would not cause permanent damage, but they finally stopped him from pursuing the plane. He also passed out, which Gibbs counted as a blessing. McGee never knew it was him who picked him up and removed the earwig, crushing it on the tarmac. Him who bundled him into Tim's rental car and drove them both away from the scene. And now he was facing the retribution from his senior field agent that he completely deserved.

Bitterly, Tim stared at him. "Did you even think I might get some sort of infection while you were holding me here? Keeping me prisoner?"

Now Gibbs glared back at Tim. "Nope. Been giving you antibiotics." He pointed to the IV set up that stood in the corner of the room. "I was never trying to kill you, McGee."

Tim lay back on the cot. He was exhausted, and really tired of trying to fight with Gibbs. "How long are you keeping me here? I imagine you know they're looking for me."

"Yeah. I know. And you'll be going back soon. We just need a few more days, and then it'll all be over."

Tim closed his eyes for a few moments, pain of a different sort washing over him. Memories of the past 18 years washed over him. He'd known and respected Gibbs nearly all his professional life. Now? It was hard to figure out what he felt. He felt, more than heard Gibbs slide to the ground next to the cot, his knees bent, his arms resting across them.

Tim slanted his eyes towards the other man. "Tell me this, Leroy. Was it worth it? Was **I** worth it?"

Tim would never forget the pain on Gibbs face as he slowly got to his feet and left the room without a single word.

As Gibbs stood in the other room staring into space, trying to absorb the mental blows McGee had inflicted, his cell phone chimed. He flipped it open and read the name. He stared at the message.

 _Fornell._ Gibbs hadn't told him anything about McGee. He figured the man had enough to deal with. "We did it Butch! The scumbags are toast! It's over." Gibbs knew the man would have destroyed the burner phone within five seconds of sending the message. He stared sadly at the screen. His gaze turned to the locked door. "No, Sundance, no it isn't."

Gibbs ran his hand through his hair and tried to think. He knew his career was over. That part was pretty much a given. He'd been ready to retire for a while, so that didn't really bother him that much. But what hurt was that he had done the wrong things for the right reasons. He and Fornell had taken down a huge drug ring that no one else would touch.

Tim had gotten himself involved only after he and Fornell had done what no one else would do. And that was the price Gibbs would have to pay. He had been out of the loop and hadn't known what Tim was up to. If he had, he might have been able to stop him, or change the course of what he and Fornell had orchestrated before that day at the airfield. But now it was too late.

Gibbs headed for the door. It was time to let Tim go. Time to face the future, whatever that might be. A thought flitted through his mind just as he reached for the lock. Tim had made a damned good SFA. Maybe it was time to find out what kind of Team Lead he would make.

**~THE END~**


End file.
